Kano Pacifica Arledge, 18
District Four Male
The train swayed beneath Kano's feet as it headed out of Four. If Kano closed his eyes, he could imagine he was back in the water again. Sure, the sensation wasn't that similar, but with the lull of the ocean growing farther and farther away, Kano would take what he could get.
"Kano, right?" his district partner asked as soon as they stepped on the train. "Sorry I never got around to reaching out to you after we were chosen. I was… distracted."
He was familiar with the girl beside him - who wouldn't be? She was the sibling of a Victor, after all. He'd never interacted with her much during their years of training, but he knew enough to be surprised when she was chosen to volunteer.
If anything, he'd figured that she wouldn't go through the selection process at all. She didn't need to, considering she was already related to a Victor, but it was more than that. Makani was talented, or so he heard, so Kano was not surprised to see that she was chosen, but he was still hung up on the why. She was the kind of girl that apologized every time she won a fight, making sure to walk her opponent down to the infirmary whether they needed medical attention or not.
"Don't worry about it," Kano said lightly, heading over to one of the blue-green couches. "It's Kano, and you're Makani."
Makani nodded at that, sitting down on the other end of the couch. "I've seen you fight before, you're very good."
Kano couldn't help the way his ego inflated at her comment, and he shot her a grin. "I've heard the same about you. I guess we'll both do our best to prove that Four can really bring it, huh?"
"That's the goal, isn't it," Makani muttered quietly, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling of the train.
Throwing his arm over the back of the couch, Kano craned his head to look at the ceiling, admiring the way it captured the push and pull of the ocean, blues and greens mixing to form waves. Looking closely, Kano could see an occasional splash of color, a fish hiding under the clear blue.
"Good, you're both here already," Bastian said, tucking a file under his arm as he walked into the room. "Faye, do you-"
The other mentor stepped on the train after him, immediately cutting him off. "Definitely not," she said, pointedly ignoring both tributes on the couch. "Just let me know when we get there."
Kano and Makani exchanged a look as Bastian heaved a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, I will."
Faye gave the tributes a wave over her shoulder, not even bothering to look back at them as she strolled down the hall. Kano gritted his teeth, absently rubbing the glass of his necklace between his fingers. He was already starting to get the impression that both mentors were tossing him inside in favor of something else. He supposed he couldn't fault Bastian for choosing his sister first, even though he didn't really understand the whole family thing, but Faye didn't even seem to care.
If Alec was there, he'd be gently rubbing the back of Kano's hand, telling him not to lose his shit over being scorned by the mentors, but the fact of the matter was that Alec wasn't there. He was back in Four, and all that was left of him was the glass pendant Kano had made for him. Kano had gifted it to Alec, and during the goodbyes Alec had given it right back.
Bastian let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. In the lull, he'd sat down in a chair adjacent to the couch, silently turning the reapings on in the background. "Faye's a lot better at getting sponsors than the actual mentoring part, so… I'll have to make up the difference where I can."
He nodded to the screen. "The Twos look particularly strong this year, so it might be in your best interest to stick together as much as you can when you hit the Games. Four has the unfortunate reputation of being the weakest of the ones that have been trained, so at least use that to your advantage and lay low until private sessions. Get a feel for the Ones, and whatever you do, don't get on the bad side of the Twos."
"What's up with the Twos?" Kano couldn't help but ask.
Bastian chuckled dryly and shook his head. "I heard from one of the mentors that the girl, Phaedra, has a prophecy about her winning. Some kind of golden girl, if the rumors are to be believed."
Golden girl.
The phrase rubbed Kano the wrong way, and he frowned up at the ceiling again. If there really was a prophecy about this girl, what did that mean for the rest of them? What was the point of it all if some girl from Two was supposed to win?
Or maybe Kano just resented that this girl seemed destined to get everything he was working for. He could still hear whispers of his father's voice telling him that he was the perfect golden boy from Four, that Kano was turning into everything he was supposed to be, and he couldn't stand it. Part of him had wanted to throw it all away just to spite his father, but he so badly wanted to prove everyone right. Even if he hadn't grown up exactly the way his father wanted him to, he would still go out and fight and win and prove to everyone that he could.
"She looks nice, though, doesn't she?" Makani asked, directing the question to Kano.
He forced his eyes back on the screen, taking in the girl from Two's careful smile that widened when she looked over at her district partner. They were two suns in orbit around each other, and they'd likely draw the pack into their orbit as well.
"I suppose," he said slowly. "But nice doesn't really matter when you're going into the Games."
If Kano and Makani just sat back and did nothing, Four would fall to the wayside like it did most years. He knew there was no way they'd be able to win together, but he wanted to be able to take Makani with him as far as he could. He knew she could handle herself, but he also wasn't sure if she was cut out for the real brutality of the Games.
But to keep Two from running the show… well, the pack needed a leader. And Kano was sure that he was the only person for the role.
Justus Arculeo, 18
District Two Male
Justus had hardly set foot on the train before the mentors had whisked him and Phaedra away, only allowing them a quick squeeze of each other's hand as they were quickly escorted down opposite hallways. He wasn't surprised that Phaedra was taken away for mentoring so soon, but he was left a bit confused as to why he was also dragged off.
"Take a seat," Callan said lightly, waving a hand towards one of the couches in the room he'd taken them to. "We can get a head start on your plan for training."
Not in the mood to argue, Justus sat down on the edge of the couch, his gaze darting around the room. The floor was a patterned marble, and all of the furnishings were a slate grey, giving the room a lifeless look that mirrored the District it was inspired by.
"What are we starting so early for?" Justus couldn't help but ask. From what he remembered from training, tributes weren't supposed to get taken for mentoring as soon as they stepped foot on the train.
Callan sighed a bit, opting to pace around the room instead of sitting down. For several long moments, the only sounds in the room were that of a clock ticking on the wall and Callan's shoes hitting the floor. Finally, he looked at Justus and ran a hand through his hair wearily. "Audesia wanted to get a feel for what Phaedra could do, and I wanted to see what you could really offer."
Tilting his head to the side, Justus asked, "What does that mean?"
"It means you're not as slick as you think you are."
Justus had to sit there for a minute and think about every bad thing he'd done in his life, at least mostly certain that Callan didn't know about how he'd taken one of Asteria's necklaces when she left and had lost it by the time she got back. Or about that time when he was a kid and his mom told him not to play with his dad's tools and he did anyway, keeping the scratch he'd earned to himself. Everything he could think of was something borne of childhood foolishness, and it certainly couldn't be whatever Callan was talking about.
Finally, his mouth opened and he mouthed a silent oh as he landed on what this was likely about. "Is this about Cardiff?"
His mentor paused in the middle of the room and gave him an incredulous stare. "I have no idea who that is," Callan said slowly.
Letting out an awkward chuckle, Justus shook his head. "I, uh, guess it's not that, then."
Callan stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "This isn't about any of your interpersonal drama. Though I do find it concerning that you're rather… close with Phaedra, but then again, that's likely none of my business. As long as you don't let it mess with your performance in the Arena, I honestly don't give a shit."
The two stared at each other for a long moment before Justus ducked his head, choosing not to comment on that. He didn't want to linger on the idea of the Arena looming over him and Phaedra more than ever, especially now, when he was never more sure of the depth of his feelings for her. It was the hand they'd both been dealt, and they each had to handle it.
"Let's change the subject," Callan said swiftly, turning away from him again. "Tell me why you're here. Why would you volunteer with the woman you love, who has lived her whole life believing she was destined to win the Games?"
Justus felt his stomach churn, carefully gripping the edge of the couch. He knew why he still chose to go through with the Fortuna Equestris, and even why he chose to go through with volunteering when Phaedra was confirmed to be his district partner.
The sensation of failure surrounded him completely, his throat burning with the threat of tears to come. His black eye stung, as did the bruises all over his body from the cold floor he'd crashed into a hundred times. But nothing hurt as much as his father's disappointing stare boring a hole into him, cutting right into his heart.
Justus would never be Asteria, that much was clear. He'd need years to achieve something like that, but months were all he had. Getting a ticket to Mirador was seemingly impossible at this rate. What could a boy as useless as him offer?
But Justus Arculeo knew not to give up, and so he offered the only thing he could: a promise.
"Just wait… One day, I'm going to make you proud! That's a promise! An Arculeo never goes back on his word!"
His father didn't say another word to him that night, merely offering Justus a bare smile and a pat on the head. Justus could feel the weight of the expectations his father continuously dumped on him, knowing that his father desperately wanted another Victor and Justus was his last shot at it. Even if he'd started training too late, even if he was useless at everything his trainor Rhys had thrown at him today… Justus would prevail. He had to.
"I wanted to win like my sister, Asteria," Justus said, keeping his voice low. "I wanted to be able to make my dad proud. I got off to a… rough start, so I had to be able to prove myself somehow."
He didn't mention the way his father had paid off a man to get him his ticket into Mirador, stealing that chance away from someone that likely deserved it more. The shame of that realization still made his body burn, and he quickly focused his gaze away from Callan.
"Sounds like you were desperate to make it into the Games," Callan said casually. "That would explain why you cheated your way through half the Fortuna Equestris."
Justus didn't know his entire world could shatter in a single sentence, leaving him to stare blankly at Callan. "I- No, I… I didn't-"
"All of your opponents after the third round had been paid off." Callan didn't even seem to notice the way Justus was sinking lower and lower into the couch, the way Justus couldn't even lift his eyes to meet his mentor's anymore. "They were all supposed to throw the match so you could win it all and go on to bring glory to your District."
"I'll be back," Justus blurted out, not waiting for a response before running out of the room, the churning in his stomach intensifying until-
He had only barely managed to find a bathroom in time, the contents of his stomach finding their way into the toilet in front of him. It was a mixture of his motion sickness and the sheer, overwhelming disappointment he felt in himself.
Justus was still useless, unable to forge his own destiny. Everything he thought he'd earned had been torn away from him in an instant, making his head swim from the grief that came from mourning something he never truly had. All he could feel was the crushing weight of being a failure, of having so many expectations dumped on him but not being able to handle a single one of them. After winning the Fortuna Equestris, Justus had finally felt like he could look his father in the eyes and be proud of himself. He could accept the honor of becoming the chosen volunteer with Phaedra and feel worthy of it.
But… had that really all been a lie? Was his father ever truly proud of him? Was he ever truly good enough to volunteer with Phaedra? Did Justus ever really stand a chance?
Was Justus destined for failure, unable to get himself off of its path?
Even though his entire body still ached with the new knowledge, was still shaking from vomiting, Justus carefully got to his feet. The room swayed around him, and he closed his eyes.
You have to go back, he told himself. An Arculeo doesn't run, an Arculeo never gives up.
Even if he was a failure, he couldn't run away. He was tired of running and hiding, and eventually he had to face things head on.
When he returned, the look Callan gave him was filled with something so similar to worry that it made Justus blink in surprise. And then it was gone, back to his blank stare that made Justus feel infinitely smaller than before.
"Did you know?"
His mentor was more perceptive than Justus thought, making him duck his head and mutter a quiet, "No."
Callan just nodded, sizing up Justus for a moment before finally taking a seat in the chair and gesturing for Justus to do the same.
"Did they know somehow?" Justus couldn't help but ask. He didn't understand why Mirador would let him represent them if his own father had paid off his opponents, rendering his branch of the tournament virtually meaningless.
"Of course," Callan replied easily. "Why wouldn't they know? They've got eyes and ears everywhere, nothing can get past them."
"If they know, then why'd they let me win? Wouldn't that taint the integrity of-"
Letting out a harsh laugh, Callan said, "It's really cute that you think they'd give a shit considering the Fortuna Equestris has been pardoning murder for years."
Justus paled again at that sentence, absently crossing his arms over his chest. "And… I'm here anyway?"
"It's not like they can foul you for it if everyone took the money without complaint," Callan pointed out. "You kept up the appearance of winning, there was no reason to intervene. And besides, the way I look at it… You've been given a chance to prove yourself, as long as you can take your strengths and play them to your favor."
Despite the fact that Justus knew it was his job, he couldn't help but feel like Callan was being… oddly supportive, despite how this meeting had started. His strengths, his strengths…
"So… what are you going to do about it?" Callan asked, leaning back in his chair.
It was probably a shot in the dark, but there was one thing Justus could think of, one thing that could help him crawl out of the pit of his own failure.
He'd do everything in his power to make sure he could stand beside Phaedra and feel worthy of her again.
Eleanor "Norrie" Holmia, 16
District Five Female
Eleanor had been paralyzed ever since her name had come out of the reaping bowl. She remembered walking up to the stage, remembered saying goodbye to her mother and Kaia, remembered boarding the train…
But it was as if she was just watching herself do all of those things, as if getting reaped had somehow killed her and now her ghost was wandering around, watching her body move on its own.
She was trying to take in things slowly, but everything was moving too quickly around her. She had been trying to keep track of introductions on the train, but all she could remember was her district partner, Nash. He'd introduced himself rather loudly, and it didn't take Eleanor long to feel overwhelmed by everything that was happening around her. Her entire life had just been turned upside down, and while she figured Nash was just trying to lighten the mood, she couldn't say it was making her feel any better.
Not waiting around, Eleanor had quietly excused herself to the room where she'd be spending the night, silently crumpling to the floor in a heap. The tight sensation in her chest was back, the same one she felt every time she walked into Cosmo Converse's Incandescent Colors and saw Winifred's empty workstation.
It only reminded her of the emptiness in Winifred's eyes as she lay on the floor, dead.
A choked sob slipped out of Eleanor's mouth as she remembered the sight of Winifred collapsing on the ground one day at work, laying there for several minutes before anyone came to pick her up. Her brown eyes had dulled, and her carefully braided red hair matched the trail of blood leaking out of her mouth. A spot of blood stained the floor for the rest of the day, but it was gone by the time Eleanor showed up to work the next morning.
One of her few friends, taken away in an instant. The excuses for it had been weak at best: a tooth removal that had gone wrong, leading to an infection that had taken her life. It just… didn't make any sense.
The sight stuck with Eleanor, looming just behind her eyelids when she laid down to sleep at night. She'd never get rid of it, and now there would only be more dead bodies in her future.
The tears were pouring now, two rivers carving a path down her face. If she wasn't careful, Eleanor felt as if she could drown, unable to get her head above water. She remembered the sight of Winifred's body more than she did Winifred herself.
Eleanor had forgotten the exact pitch of Winifred's laugh. Would her own mother soon forget the sound of her voice, the precise color of her eyes?
"Don't think on that now, Norrie," she whispered to herself. "Mom wouldn't want you to. Kaia wouldn't want you to. Winifred wouldn't want you to."
If Eleanor managed to ignore the rapidly approaching Games, maybe she could approach the upcoming days in a different way. It would all be just like another job, one where she'd have to figure out how to fit in like a part of the machine again. There were survival skills to learn, alliances to make… Eleanor wasn't sure if or how she'd manage to find an alliance, but learning new skills was something she could enjoy.
The image of Winifred would be burned into her mind until the day she died, but Eleanor refused to let it keep her down.
Three days of training, the private sessions, the party, the interview… Eleanor could think of a few different ways to make all of it work in her favor, but only if she was brave enough. Eleanor could plan to her heart's content, but if she couldn't get herself to tell the truth to a whole country of people watching… then it was all useless.
"You can tell them," Kaia hissed as soon as the door closed behind her. "You can tell them all, they'll listen to you! You're a tribute now, they have to!"
"Slow down," Eleanor whispered, her head spinning as she tried to take everything in. "Tell… who? What?"
Kaia leaned in close to her, gripping Eleanor's wrist. "Come on, Norrie. You can tell the whole Capitol about Cosmo Converse and everything he makes us go through. Your interview, you could do it then, when the stage is all yours!"
"I…" Eleanor glanced down at her shoes, her hands twisting in front of her. "I don't know if I can."
"Well I know you can, so you have to at least try. For yourself, for all of us. Please, Norrie."
She had to try. If she couldn't even go back out with who she'd be staying with for the next several days, she wouldn't be able to help Kaia or the other workers. Maybe Eleanor could learn to start pushing herself out of her comfort zone, one miniscule step at a time.
Nash didn't seem scary. Neither of the mentors did either. Eleanor didn't want to have to sit around in this room for the rest of the evening; she wanted to be back around people so the silence of the room wouldn't continuously eat away at her.
Getting to her feet, Eleanor carefully dusted off her dress, making sure not to scrub the tears from her eyes. She didn't need to walk out of this room with a bright red face, as any flush would stand out against her pale skin. Instead, she headed over to the bathroom, standing under the bright lights and splashing water on her face.
"Come on, Norrie," she whispered to herself, bracing her hands against the counter. "They just want to help you, and that's what you need right now."
After one last look in the mirror to make sure her face didn't too obviously display the tears that had been rolling down her face, Eleanor straightened her shoulders. This wasn't anything she wanted, but she had to make it work. If some of her last acts involved helping people… she couldn't say she'd be happy, but at least she'd be content with what she'd done.
Walking out into the hallway, Eleanor was instantly drawn back towards the main room of the train by the chatter that easily reached her ears. Nash's voice was louder than the others, making Eleanor crack a slight smile. He may have been louder than she was used to, but she could already tell that everything he said came from a good place. She didn't know if they'd wind up as allies - there was plenty of time to figure out things like that - but a friendly acquaintance was better than nothing at all.
"Feeling better, Norrie?"
Nash had practically been able to sense her from the doorway, his wide grin nearly lighting up the entire room. He just seemed so… good natured and optimistic, making it easy for Eleanor to offer up a smile and sit down on the couch.
"Much." Eleanor glanced around at the occupants of the room, knowing that they were her first step to liberating everyone back home. Even if she couldn't get back to her mother, she could help make someone else's life better.
Eleanor swore that she'd use what she'd been given to tell everyone the truth, no matter what.
Alila Perwane, 18
District One Female
The interior of the train was nothing like Alila had imagined, putting everything native to District One to shame. It was like the Capitol had learned to take the glitz and glamor of District One and amp it up to an eleven. Alila could probably scavenge on the train and find enough things to sell to feed her entire family - thirty kids and all - for a year and have no one go hungry. Not that she would steal, of course. It wasn't proper for a Perwane.
Alila figured that the trains were themed for each district somehow, but that was just a guess, as this one was filled to the brim with jewels. There was a chandelier in the dining room and emeralds and rubies embedded in the table. She would call it overkill, but that probably didn't describe it well enough. It actually made her sit back and wonder just how much money the Capitol had in the first place.
But then again, she'd probably be able to figure out once this was all over and she was safe back at home. Her siblings would be thrilled and would all promptly get into arguments over what all they could buy with her money. The twins, Archimedes and Diocletian, would insist on getting some Capitol-grade technology to play around with, which would mean that Alila would also have to get them their own workshop so they wouldn't catch the house on fire.
Well, so they wouldn't catch the house on fire again.
Trying to make a mental list of everything her siblings would want was already getting extensive - fabric to sew clothing, jewellry, a new training weapon - but it brought Alila a sense of comfort as she left her family behind, even if she was confident enough in her abilities to believe that she'd be coming back in a few weeks.
She wasn't the only confident one though, as Shai Kingston had been sporting a particularly wide grin ever since his goodbyes. The two hadn't been particularly close during their time training back in One, and they had silently agreed that they would continue to largely stay out of each other's way for now. She thought he was a bit of an asshole at best, and he likely thought she just had a stick up hers.
The train car was largely empty, except for two people standing near the living area. Estelle Duvont was talking quietly with another mentor, Asteria Cotteram, if Alila remembered the name correctly. She frowned slightly, as she remembered seeing a different name on the rotation for mentors this year, but Asteria didn't seem to be out of place or anything. It wasn't uncommon for there to be extra mentors tagging along - if the Districts could afford them - but Alila had assumed she'd know about it in advance.
That being said, Alila couldn't help the smug smile that turned up the corners of her lips as she stood in the same room as the Estelle Duvont.
Part of her wished that Mimi was here just so she could rub it in her face again that Alila was the chosen volunteer, the one that got to meet Estelle Duvont, the one that was going to win it all. But to be frank, Mimi could go choke for all Alila cared. She'd earned this spotlight on her own, and now she was going to let everyone else know just how much she deserved it.
"When's the Reapings recap?" Shai finally spoke aloud beside her, leaning against the wall and staring hungrily at the small living area.
That caught Estelle's attention, and she whispered one last thing to Asteria before the other woman left quietly. "Eager to scout out the competition?" she asked with a soft laugh, making her way over to one of the chairs.
"I figure it's always best to look for obvious weaknesses when I can assume everyone else is doing the same," Shai said casually, flopping down on the couch and resting his feet on the arm rest, blocking anyone else from sitting there.
Alila shot him a dirty look for that, but she knew how to pick her fights and just made her way over to the chair beside Estelle's. If she was being honest, she was silently screaming at the chance to be this close to one of her childhood idols, but she presented a carefully neutral face.
District One was already over by the time the television switched on, tuning in just in time for a tall and confident girl from District Two to volunteer, who was soon joined by a blond guy. The two shared a look on the stage, their hands gravitating towards each other before the handshake. Whatever the relationship the two had, they were clearly close.
The two rather scrawny kids from Three earned a snicker from Shai - particularly the boy, who looked like the wind could blow him over if it came in too hard. He seemed particularly… fragile as well, making Alila frown just slightly. She knew that he would have to die for her to live, but that idea didn't sit well inside her.
At least Four could provide her more insight into her future allies, but the District was always a wild card and this year was no different. The girl looked like she had the potential to be a formidable opponent, but there was a certain softness behind her eyes that made Alila wonder why on earth she'd volunteer for something like this. The boy was marginally better, but there was something slightly off about him, enough so that Alila found herself vaguely unsettled.
Phaedra and Justus and Makani and Kano. Alila rolled their names over in her mind, trying to settle on how exactly she thought her future alliance would play out. All she knew was that one of the Twos would likely be leading - the girl, if Alila's instincts were right - but that was all she settled on. Well, that and the fact that both of the other girls looked friendly enough to make nice with for a while.
Both Districts Five and Six were interesting in that the male absolutely towered over the female, but the Five boy - Arcturus, evidently - actually looked like a threat, while the Six boy - Jude - was on the skinny side, looking more fragile like the Three boy.
Alila had forgotten how dull the recap could be, turning her attention instead to her District Partner, who was way more into the screening than she was. He was eagerly nodding along with the man presenting the recap, something about how at least a few of the outer District kids looked like they would put up a fight this year.
"Notable outliers so far?" Estelle asked, directing her attention to Shai.
"The Five boy for his brute strength, the Three kid for his weakness, and the Six girl," he rattled off immediately.
Estelle seemed to be hiding a smile as she prodded for more by asking, "The Six girl? She was tiny, doesn't look like much."
"Her eyes told a different story," Alila murmured, thinking back to the look she saw the girl sporting. "She won't be an easy one."
Satisfied, Estelle nodded and leaned back in her chair. "Those are always the trickiest, in my opinion. You can combat strength because it's easier to notice, but mind games are an entirely different playing field."
Someone came by to offer Alila a glass of water, and she took it with a thankful nod of her head. Shai refused his and complained about the lack of outer district volunteers, claiming that they were always fun to keep an eye on in the pregames.
Alila sipped at her water slowly, watching the girl from Nine stalk up to the stage with a dark look in her eyes. There was something off about this girl as well, but Alila couldn't linger on it for long before the boy was reaped. He didn't even make it to the stage before Shai's two favorite words - "I volunteer!"- echoed through Nine's square.
Alila took another drink of her water, immediately regretting it as she nearly spit it out in shock. She forced it down, trying not to noticeably cough as she attempted to clear her throat soundlessly. It's a miracle she didn't make a noise, though she knew her eyes must've widened a comically large amount. At least Shai wasn't looking her way, though she did catch Estelle looking at her out of the corner of her eyes.
That would be a fun conversation.
After all, how was Alila supposed to explain that her adopted brother looked identical to the Nine kid that just volunteered?
She squinted at the screen, catching Shai saying his name curiously. Thay. The naming scheme was similar enough, and she could pick up on a few key differences between the two. Thay looked older somehow, like he'd managed to age a thousand years over in Nine, while Thee still held some level of innocence in his eyes. There was a darkness that seemed to hover over them both, making Alila frown, and then wonder why she did so.
"That one looks particularly strong," she heard Shai comment about one of the Twelve kids - she didn't even notice Ten and Eleven go by - but everything felt as if it was submerged in water and Alila was desperately trying to make her way to the surface inside her own head.
A family, a fire, rebels, District Nine…
It all made sense when she took the time to think about it, but Alila didn't want to think about it. Already it was enough to make her head spin, and she was desperately trying to keep her face as neutral as she could. She knew the nature of one Shai Kingston, and he was like a shark that sensed blood in the water when it came to weakness - one wrong move and he'd be ready to tear her throat out.
Was Alila scared of him? Oh hell no, but she knew when to lay low and the Hunger Games was definitely that time.
So she carefully schooled her expression, silently grateful that she'd managed to keep her glass in her hand, and took a slow sip of the water. This didn't change anything - it couldn't. Alila had worked herself to the bone for the chance in front of her, and she wasn't willing to give it up for anyone.
… Or at least, that's what she kept telling herself.